


A debt that can't be repaid

by Am (AmaranthineAmusement)



Category: People of Earth (TV 2016)
Genre: I just want them to be happy, M/M, so will probably be canon non-compliant, written after season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmaranthineAmusement/pseuds/Am
Summary: Ozzie wants to make up for destroying Jonathan's career; Jonathan wants Ozzie to stay alive. It's all downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well, this is non-betad and basically I'm making it up as I go, so, uh. ANYWAY. This is a continuation after the end of season 1, because I hate cliffhangers with all my heart >:[ 
> 
> I don't know how often I will update this, so. \\(._.)/

 

This is how it happens: Jonathan, having nothing else to do and with no employment options, becomes the secretary at the Police Department. Officer Glimmer, to his credit, doesn’t seem to mind that Jonathan is fairly incompetent.

 

His days become monotonous. He lives in a back closet of the Sheriffs office that has a cot for when Glimmer gets kicked out of his apartment by whichever woman he’s leeching off of at the moment, or when one of the other officers has a late shift. He sleeps facing the table with Nancy’s head on it: she’s not functional yet, but he’s working on it.

 

He wakes up. He takes calls for the department and fills in paperwork until four. He fields questions about his ever-present bandage: his current explanation is that he was in a motorcycle accident. Then, once it gets dark, Jonathan closes himself inside the back room and operates on Nancy.

 

It’s so boring that he would kill himself, if not for the satisfaction that it would give his Assessor (and Jeff, that asshole. Jonathan gets that he’s grieving, but seriously. The sex couldn’t have been _that_ good.)

 

And then, on a foggy morning, Ozzie Graham walks in. He looks like he’s been getting even less sleep than usual. In one hand, he holds a coffee: in the other, he has the same spiral notebook he always carries. Jonathan smiles a little to himself. It’s good to see Ozzie hasn’t changed.

 

“Morning.” Ozzie yawns. “I’m here for the…” He glances up, realizes Jonathan is there mid-sentence. “…police report for this week. Jonathan, what are you doing here?”

 

Jonathan grins widely to save face. “Ozzie, my old pal! I’ve decided to involve myself in the Law Enforcement here in Beacon. Such a beautiful town.” _One with you in it,_ he thinks but doesn’t mention. It’s not like he’s wanted to see Ozzie (too much chance of exposure), but it’s comforting to know that if the council decides to attack, Jonathan can step in at any time. “You wanted the police report for this week?”

 

“What?” Ozzie blinks, then reaches for his notebook- only to stop mid-motion and shake his head. “I just. Jonathan, do you even care about the police force?”

 

In an attempt to distract Ozzie via the glinting of his teeth, Jonathan smiles even wider. “Yeah! Yeah, totally. I always have admired the way, they, uh, take care of traffic accidents and disorderly behavior.” He turns in his chair to face Officer Glimmer. “We cover disorderly behavior, right?”

 

Glimmer nods. 

 

Ozzie frowns down at him for a long second, then seems to come to a conclusion. “Jonathan, can I buy you a coffee?”

 

“Uh. I’m in the middle of a shift right now, bud.”

 

Officer Glimmer, meddler that he is, says, “Feel free to take your lunch early. It should be pretty slow today.”

 

Out of excuses, Jonathan gets up and trails Ozzie out of the station. The walk to the Remarkable Bean is fairly short: Ozzie wheels his bike all the way. Neither of them speaks. 

 

Once they’ve gotten their coffees- Ozzie pays without mentioning it to Jonathan, which Jonathan thoroughly appreciates- they sit by the window. Jonathan takes a sip of his Americana: Ozzie knots his fingers around his cup and makes direct eye contact with Jonathan. 

 

He sighs. “Look, I’m probably crazy for asking this, but are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine!” Jonathan responds, almost instantly. He immediately regrets how quickly he answered; it seems to inspire even more genuine, unwanted concern from Ozzie. 

 

“Are you sure?” Ozzie presses. “I basically ruined your life with that article. I mean, you’re working at the police station. As a _secretary._ Do you even get health insurance?”

 

Jonathan shrugs. “I don’t really _need_ health insurance.”

 

Ozzie bites his lip: after a couple of seconds Jonathan realizes he probably shouldn’t be staring and goes back to drinking his coffee. 

 

“Look, I could try and get you a position at the newspaper.” Ozzie blurts it out like he’s physically in pain. 

 

Jonathan looks up again, frowns. “What? No newspaper’s going to hire me.”

 

Ozzie leans back in his chair, fiddling with the cover of his notebook. “Would you take a position at the newspaper if you could get one?” He doesn’t make eye contact; Jonathan stares for a second as he thinks.

 

He hates the police station, sure. He gets paid a pittance, and he doesn’t know anyone there. He’s buddies with Glimmer, so even if he gets a job somewhere else he can probably keep the cot for a few weeks. And, regardless of the reptilian agenda, he had quite liked working at the paper.

 

Ozzie’s just standing up when Jonathan speaks. “Yeah.”

 

He can see Ozzie’s adam’s apple bob up and down. “Then I’ll get you hired; it’s the least I can do. Put together a resume.” With a smooth movement, Ozzie puts on his over-the-shoulder bag and heads out the door. 

 

He leaves Jonathan sitting at the cafe table, speechless. 

 

-

 

“So, Mr. Walsh… you’ve got a pretty solid resume.” The interviewer looks up at him. “Are you sure the Beacon newspaper is the right place for you? It can be hard transferring from administration to employee.”

 

Jonathan puts forward his best smile. “I’ve always had a passion for small-town media.”

 

The interviewer looks down at his desk again, frowning. Jonathan catches a glimpse of the article Ozzie wrote about him; not good. On top is a post-it note, covered in Ozzie’s scrawling handwriting. 

 

While the interviewer makes his decisions, Jonathan strains to read the note upside down. He can make out a few words; “ _Enthusiastic…. genuinely invested in…”_

 

Just as Jonathan is trying to figure out whether a character is an r or an n- why does Ozzie write in such messy handwriting?- the interviewer clears his throat.

 

“Well, I think for the time being we’ll hire you as an investigative assistant for one of our senior reporters. I’m sure you understand why we’re reluctant to put you in any higher position.”

 

Jonathan nods; honestly, he’s amazed that they even gave him the job. “Who am I working for?”

 

The man looks up and adjusts his glasses. “Ozzie Graham.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Ozzie’s life is so confusing at this point that he’s actually considering making one of those conspiracy walls you see in movies: it might help him to have all of the ideas he has about the whole alien thing up in one place. 

 

Still, for the moment he keeps all of his information in his notebook, which has been working well enough for him. 

 

He’s actually flipping through looking for what he wrote down about his hypnosis experiences with Gina when he walks into work. As he sighs- sometimes he forgets to use a bookmark, and it never fails to be completely irritating- and scribbles a reminder to create an index onto the back cover, he runs right into someone.

 

“Agh! Sorry, sorry, totally my fault,” He says, dropping to the floor to pick up what they dropped, “I’m a little zoned out today…” 

 

Ozzie looks up into the eyes of a thoroughly confused Jonathan Walsh. With a sharp inhale, Ozzie stands up, handing the papers back to Walsh. “Sorry again. You got hired?”

 

“That’s right! Admittedly my desk is a bit- small… but I owe the job to you, bud, so I’m not gonna complain.” Jonathan gives Ozzie another unsettling grin as he takes the papers back.

 

“Yeah, well, we can’t all drive our desks.” Ozzie raises an eyebrow at Jonathan. “Besides, I thought you wanted a smaller office.”

 

Jonathan chooses not to respond. As Ozzie heads towards his desk, he keeps expecting Jonathan to turn away, head to a different part of the room- but no, the other guy just keeps following him. 

 

Finally, as Ozzie makes it to his desk, he turns to Jonathan and says, “Don’t you have work to do?”

 

Jonathan raises both eyebrows. “They didn’t tell you?”

 

“They didn’t tell me _what?”_

 

_“_ I’m working for you, old pal.” Jonathan gives Ozzie a couple of pats on the shoulder, then puts his work down on the desk opposite of Ozzie’s. “We’ll be thick as thieves.”

 

Ozzie blinks. “What, like an assistant?”

  
Jonathan shrugs. “Whatever you need. I wasn’t given any guidelines, really.” 

 

Right, well, Ozzie is too tired to process this beyond the mild existential crisis he’s having. He sits down in his chair and closes his eyes, then drags a hand over his face meditatively. What does he need done that Jonathan can’t fuck up?

 

-

“Remember, don’t take pictures without asking first. And make sure to write people’s names down, they like seeing themselves in the paper….” Ozzie can’t keep himself from lecturing Jonathan as they head over to the Azalea festival, which is taking place at the town fairgrounds this year.

 

“No, no, I think I get it… I’m mostly taking pictures of the flowers, right?” Jonathan slings the camera bag over his shoulder, then gets into the car. “There are seventeen species this year, if I remember correctly.”

 

Ozzie blinks. “You remember that? I must have mentioned that, like, a week ago.”

 

Jonathan shrugs and looks out the window. Ozzie holds in another question: Walsh has been much quieter lately. He supposes that’s a normal response to having your entire career and/or ego destroyed. 

 

Once they arrive, Jonathan is surprisingly compliant, charming all the old ladies into taking pictures together and speaking about azaleas as if he’s an expert- although Ozzie notices that Jonathan carefully avoids mentioning any specifics about his apparent love for the flowers.

 

“All right, if you’ll just crowd in a little more, I’ll be able to see all of your lovely faces… you too, Edith.” Jonathan waves a hand from behind his camera. “A little to the left… yes, that’s perfect. This is really something special.”

 

A set of titters rises from the grandma contingent: Ozzie swallows a sigh. He had expected Jonathan to be irritating, yes, but he hadn’t anticipated that the guy would be good at this. 

 

After checking his watch- it’s nearly 6 o’clock- he clears his throat, moving forward so he’s out of the shade and fully visible. “Well, while it’s been great, I think we should end here. I’m sure we’ve gotten quite a few good pictures for the paper.” The ladies all nod in agreement, dispersing to fill various cars; the festival has been over for a day, but they agreed to get together again so Ozzie could get pictures and final thoughts from them. 

 

As they walk away, Ozzie yawns, heading to his car. “Hey, Jonathan, I think I’m gonna head home. Do you want me to drop you off?” 

 

Jonathan hesitates, then looks away and clears his throat. “I think I’ll jog back.”

 

“You sure? It’s getting kinda dark…” Ozzie groans internally. Why does he keep offering things like this? Jonathan will keep accepting his favors, and then Ozzie will have absolutely no time where he can just recover from all of the- well- _Jonathan_. 

 

“No, no, I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jonathan calls, already walking around the corner. Relieved, Ozzie jumps into his car and sends a text before he heads off. He has a feeling that a little time with a friend will help him infinitely in the long run. 

 

-

“Hey, Ozzie.” Kelly stands up from the park bench, stretching before tossing him a package. “I got you a burrito.”

 

Ozzie just barely catches the bag; it’s heavier than he expected. “What did you put in this?” He looks up at Kelly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not _that_ serious.”

 

Kelly shrugs. “Look, I gotta take my opportunities where I can. There are ice cream bars in there too, in case mexican isn’t gonna quench your sorrows or whatever.” Then, strolling towards him, she pokes a finger into the middle of his chest. “Anyway, I know you didn’t call me just because you wanted a burrito. What’s your problem?”

 

It takes a few minutes, but once they’ve finished their ice cream Ozzie’s managed to cover the situation pretty thoroughly. Kelly hums thoughtfully as she throws her stick away.

 

“So, let me see if I’ve got everything… you think we were all kidnapped as children, you quit your job at the new york times because you found a childhood drawing of a reptilian, there was an explosion in Gina’s living room, you think Nancy _died,_ and you accidentally hired your old boss?”

 

Ozzie snorts. “Yeah, pretty much.”

 

That’s when Kelly rolls her eyes and rotates on the park bench, straddling it so she’s facing him directly. “So let me ask this; you’ve just told me about a huge amount of serious concerns about an alien invasion, or something.” She narrows her eyes. “So why did you focus mostly on your problems with your old boss- Jonathan, or whatever his name is?”

 

Ozzie shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Projecting all my frustrations on an unchangeable point? Unresolved tension from the time he tried to threaten to expose me online? Leftover guilt about getting him fired?” He glances over at Kelly. “What, you think this is a sign of a bigger conspiracy or something? Come on.”

 

Kelly rolls her eyes again. “I don’t think it’s a sign of a bigger conspiracy, dumbass.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you’re not, like, into him?”

 

“What? No way.” Ozzie tries to convey how ridiculous this idea is via facial expression. Kelly doesn’t look impressed.

 

“If this is about repressed homophobia, I’m here to listen.”

 

“It’s not about not liking guys, it’s about Jonathan being a complete asshole.” Ozzie snorts. “I mean, he won’t leave me alone, ever. He was a terrible boss! And he won’t stop calling me buddy. It’s super weird.”

 

“Look, dude,” Kelly stands up, swinging her keys around her finger. “A guy being an asshole doesn’t always stop you from wanting to ride his dick. Trust me, I’ve been there.” She pats his shoulder a little too roughly. “Now, do you want to go get plastered or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, it's officially noncanon now. I forgot that kelly had left for Iceland until I had nearly finished the scene... and I'm lazy, what can I say :P Maybe this happens before she heads off on her plane? The timeline is hella wonky anyway.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, I am slowly working up to some actual romance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be three chapters. I was wrong. 
> 
> If you don't like reading about vomit/drinking, skip this chapter.

“What can I get you?”

 

Jonathan blinks up at the bartender. “Uh, whatever you got me last time. Several of them.” He pulls up from his slump enough to dangle a hand in front of his face and attempt to count his fingers. “Two… three? Three. Of the bubbly ones.”

 

“Rum and coke?”

 

Even though he screws up his face, the man won’t come into focus. “Yes. The that one.”

 

Jonathan has, over the last couple of weeks, been sampling different drinks at the bar; for the first time, he’s not being forced into sobriety by his overseers. Still, tonight is the first time that he’s really gone on a binge- mostly because tonight’s the first time he’s had financial security. 

 

He thinks morosely of his progress on Nancy; he’s hit a roadblock, because while her consciousness was on the cloud, his login credentials were withdrawn the instant he defected. In an attempt to distract himself, he downs one of the drinks. It’s sweeter than he remembered.

 

He pushes himself fully off the bar, about to wave over the bartender again, when he catches a glimpse of a familiar face. 

 

“Heeeey! Ozzie! Ozzie, my _man!”_ He says, swaying where he sits. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since- since this afternoon!” When Ozzie doesn’t move, he stands up and starts to make his way across to where the other man is sitting.

 

Before he makes it halfway across the room, though, Ozzie jumps up and holds out a hand to steady him. “Hey, Jonathan.” He turns and casts a glance at someone Jonathan can’t see; the bar is dim and everything is slightly sideways. “I… didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

“Yeah.” says Jonathan, feeling his stomach lurch. “Like- likewise, buddy. I thought you had stuff to do. Or something.” He tries to smile, but can’t quite make his face move. 

 

Ozzie just shrugs. “Hey, uh, you’re looking a little unsteady there. Let’s go back to your seat, I’ll help you get settled.” He starts to guide Jonathan towards his old seat with an arm around his shoulders. 

 

Jonathan pulls away. “Actually, I think I need to get outside…” his stomach lurches again. “…fast.”

 

They move outside with record speed once the people in their way realize the urgency of the situation; Jonathan is well off of bar property when his digestive tract finally makes its will known and he vomits all over the grass.

 

Ozzie’s looking away at first, well out of the way, so Jonathan notices it first; his vomit is green. And corrosive, apparently.

 

His first response is complete, sobering panic. What a _stupid_ way to be found out. Heart beating a thousand times a minute, he stumbles off to push some dirt over the now bubbling and sizzling spot in the grass- but he doesn’t make it in time.

 

With his movement, Ozzie looks over, frowning. “Jonathan, what are you…” His eyes fall on the bubbling spot on the grass. “What is that?”

 

Jonathan attempts to laugh confidently. He’s unsuccessful. “I must really drank something strange, huh?”

 

Ozzie frowns. “I think we might need you to get to a hospital, actually. If that- came out of you, then you are not healthy. At all.” He fishes keys out of his pocket. “I’m sort of sober, I can drive you.”

 

The two conflicting portions of Jonathan’s mind rear to attention. The one that wants to keep his identity secret says to blow Ozzie off, pass it off as a joke, and never speak of this incident again. The other half of his mind- the one that missed Ozzie when he left new york- says that he needs to fess up. Soon.

 

“Jonathan.” A hand hovers in front of his face. “Jonathan!” 

 

Jonathan opens his eyes again. At some point he had stumbled down to sit on the grass, completely caught up in his internal debate. Ozzie hovers in front of him, frowning. “Seriously, I think we need to go to the ER. I mean, crazy acid throw-up aside, you’ve had that bandage for at least three weeks, and honestly…”

 

Jonathan comes to a decision instantly. 

 

“I’m an alien.”

 

Ozzie blinks. Then he sighs and stands up. 

 

Jonathan feels rejected. “Hey! What’s this? I’m telling the truth! I can even prove it to you!”

 

Ozzie shakes his head. “I’m not getting the truth while standing in the grass behind a shitty bar.” He holds out a hand for Jonathan to take. “You can tell me after you’ve sobered up.”

 

“Where are we going?” Jonathan asks, taking the hand and pulling himself up. “Because I don’t need to go to the ER. And by that I mean I am absolutely not going to go to the hospital, no matter what.”

 

“No, no, I got you,” Ozzie says, already walking to his car. “We’re going to my motel room.”

 

Suddenly, Jonathan’s throat is completely dry. He’s made a lot of terrible decisions, and said a lot of things he can’t come back from. Yet, somehow, every step towards Ozzie’s car feels like a step towards his execution.

 

In the back of his mind, he knows why; because no matter what, after tonight, Ozzie is never going to look at him the same way again. 


	4. Chapter 4

Ozzie feels strangely disconnected from everything as he drives over to his motel. His buzz has completely gone, and in its place he finds that his fingers are trembling. Somehow, in all of his investigation, he had never even thought that-

 

No. He’s not thinking about it. Not until he gets the full story. University taught him one thing, at least- if you assume, you end up fucking several people over.

 

Still, it’s vaguely comforting to know that, however nauseous he might feel, Jonathan is worse. When he pulls into the parking lot, Jonathan pushes open the door, tripping over himself before throwing up into another bush. Shaking his head minutely, Ozzie pushes open his own door. 

 

“You all right?”

 

“Fine,” says Jonathan, unusually gruff. With a huff, Walsh pushes himself up to a standing position again and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. “Let’s get this over with already. I’ve been-“

 

“Nope, not until we’re inside,” Ozzie says, guiding Jonathan towards his room. “This is ridiculous enough. I think we should both be sitting down.”

 

As they’re crossing the threshold, Jonathan turns to look at him, frowning. “Wait, are you drunk?”

 

Ozzie shrugs. “Ehhhhhhh…. I’m more sober than you are.”

 

“You are!” Jonathan sways on his feet, suddenly refusing to move. “You’re drunk!” His face becomes utterly serious. “You shouldn’t drink and drive, buddy.”

 

“Well, too late. It was five minutes between here and the bar.” Ozzie doesn’t know why he keeps explaining himself to Jonathan: it’s not like the guy is going to remember any of this in the morning. Ozzie kind of wishes that he wouldn’t remember anything, either, but he’s not the blackout type. 

 

Jonathan, in the midst of processing Ozzie’s words, lets himself be dragged into Ozzie’s room and put onto the bed. Ozzie sits in the chair.

 

There’s a brief but incredibly awkward silence. Ozzie swallows.

 

On the one hand, he knows this is a horrible, manipulative thing to do. Questioning someone when they’re drunk is completely dishonest: Jonathan can’t really consent to answering any of Ozzie’s questions. 

 

On the other hand, this is a chance for some real exposition. Jonathan’s bursting at the seams to tell him something: even as Ozzie comes to a decision, Jonathan starts talking again.

 

“Hey! Buddy!” He waves a hand in Ozzie’s face. “Buddy!” He blinks, slow, and leans forward. “Did you really mean it when you said I wasn’t your best friend? Because-“

 

Ozzie frowns. “What you were saying earlier-“ he draws his notebook out of his pocket- “are you really an alien?”

 

Jonathan snorts. “‘Course! Can’t- I can’t believe you didn’t see it.” He hiccups. “You’re _smart.”_ He snickers a little to himself. “guess I’m good at being human…”

 

“So you’re a…” Ozzie waves his pen in a vague circle, hoping to prompt a little more content out of Jonathan.

  
“Reptilian.” Jonathan leans forward, trying to see what Ozzie’s writing, and falls off the edge of the bed with a loud thump. Blinking rapidly, he sits up again. “You wanna see?”

 

“What?”

 

As Ozzie looks on, confused, Jonathan unwraps the bandage from around his head, revealing… scales. There are scales.

 

Somehow Ozzie was unprepared for this development.

 

He panics even more as Jonathan grabs some seam on his throat, pulling up- and _wow_ that is disgusting, it’s his _skin_ coming off- but finds himself frozen in his seat. Within a few seconds he’s looking directly into Jonathan’s eyes, which after a blink have become slitted and yellow.

 

Jonathan’s demeanor has shifted from jovial to serious, almost sober, and he sighs. Ozzie can hear him swallow. “Look, buddy. Ozzie, I’m-” he takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for lying to you. I couldn’t really go around advertising… this.” He vaguely waves at himself. 

 

Ozzie still can’t make himself move. His jaw seems to be locked into place. Everything that he’s been remembering with Gina seems to be falling into place, clicking into the puzzle and forming a thoroughly unpleasant picture. 

 

“Hey- Ozzie? You there?” After waving a hand in Ozzie’s face,Jonathan sighs, then lays down and stares up at the ceiling. He’s absentmindedly fiddling with a corner of the blanket.

 

After a few minutes of this, Ozzie finally manages to regain control over his body. He’s angry again, the kind of angry that rests in the back of his mind while he deals with everything else in his life. Furrowing his brows, he leans forward and kicks at Jonathan’s foot.

 

“What?” Jonathan props himself up on his elbows, looking thoroughly disheveled. 

 

“Did you kidnap me as a kid?” Ozzie has got the rush of adrenaline he always gets when he’s uncovering the truth, a sort of accelerated heartbeat that he can feel pulsing through his fingers. 

 

Jonathan nods.

 

“And the others in Starcrossed? They were taken too?” 

 

Another nod.

 

Ozzie can feel something dawning on him, a realization of something much bigger than he is. “My article about Glint enterprises.” He swallows and locks his hands together to stop his fingers from trembling. “That was about more than just corruption in the media, wasn’t it.”

 

Jonathan sits up fully this time. When he speaks, his voice rough. “Yeah. You, uh, took a real risk there.”

 

“Oh my god.” Ozzie leans back in his chair, scrambling for something to write with. “This- this reptilian thing. Richard was _right?”_ His mind flashes through his memories, looking for other relevant issues. “Are you going to try and take over Earth?”

 

“I’m pretty sure that Richard being right was a fluke,” said Jonathan, frowning, “but yes. The whole, you know, ‘taking over and killing all the humans’ reptilian thing, that’s real.” He laughs, an aborted sort of snicker. “Always thought it was too complicated. We should’ve just gone to mars…”

 

Ozzie stands up, unable to contain himself anymore. He has to tell Gina about this. 

 

Still, he stops when Jonathan tries to get up with him. Walsh’s eyes have glazed over in a foreboding way; there’s no way the guy’s gonna stay awake for long enough to talk any more. With a few quick movements, Ozzie ushers him into the bed, taking off the man’s shoes but otherwise leaving him to his own devices. 

 

“Hey, buddy, where’re you going?” Jonathan’s voice is sleepy.

 

Ozzie finishes scribbling his quick note and leaves it on the bedside table. On his way out, he pats Jonathan on the shin. “Nowhere for you to worry about. I’ll see you in the morning, Jonathan.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: I outlined this in chemistry class. I did not, however, learn any chemistry in chemistry class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this includes mentions of blood + violence, so I'm sorry if you don't like that kinda stuff.

Jonathan wakes up with a pounding headache and the taste of truth in his mouth. Unfortunately, he can remember most of last night- the highlights, anyway.

 

As he sits up, groaning at a rush of blood to his head, he squints around at Ozzie’s motel room. It’s a bit sad, really, how Ozzie’s personality has been transported from the brightness of New York to this dingy motel room in a town only distinguishable by its alien experience support group. 

 

Still, Jonathan has no time to contemplate the issues of Ozzie’s life. His attention is quickly redirected to a yellow post-it note stuck onto the dresser, flapping silently with every gust of the vent. 

 

“ _I think there’s bread in the fridge. Don’t try to follow me. -Ozzie”_.

 

It takes only a few seconds for Jonathan to read between the lines. Ozzie’s gone to find out more about aliens- and if Jonathan knows one thing, it’s that the reptilian agenda is not to be messed with. His own survival is hardly a given, even with blackmail material: Ozzie is in even more danger.

 

It’s under this principle that he forces himself out of bed, swallowing the taste of blood in his mouth. Jonathan has never been the heroic type, but this isn’t heroism. This is keeping a promise.

 

-

 

It takes the whole day to finally track Ozzie down. Jonathan is slowed by his lack of an assistant, and even more delayed when Richard confronts him in the parking lot of starcrossed: apparently Ozzie called in a favor. 

 

Thankfully, Jonathan manages to clear all obstacles before darkness fully falls- no self-respecting alien would abduct anyone in broad daylight, so Ozzie should still be fine. 

 

He hums to himself and taps the steering wheel of Richard’s car as he turns towards the fields just outside of beacon. _Maybe I should go into tech,_ he thinks to himself: it must pay more than the newspaper. Those little bits that connect to the internet don’t come cheap. 

 

Before he can think of how to convince Richard to hire him, though, he spots a light in the distance. 

 

“Shit!” It’s gotten dark already, and Jonathan was thinking too much about himself to notice. He slams on the gas: the car lurches forward in a satisfying way. 

 

He hurtles down the road, turning a sharp right when he sees two cars parked by the side of the road: one seems to be gathering dust, and the other is being slowly lifted up by a tractor beam. Jonathan swears more under his breath. This isn’t good.

 

With a screech, he slams the brakes, forcing the car to skid to a stop just in front of the tractor beam. Heart beating a mile a minute, Jonathan jumps out of the car, bringing the tire iron he found in the trunk with him- it’s been sitting on his passenger seat like a good luck charm.

 

“Hey!” He says, waving the tire iron. “Jeff, you asshole! Give them back!”

 

The car stops rising. 

 

After a couple of seconds, a screech sounds from the ship Jonathan can barely make out from behind the clouds. A speaker’s been turned on. 

 

“ _What_ did you say to me, traitor?” 

 

Jonathan can practically hear how angry Jeff is. The gray’s voice trickles through the speakers, sneering and violent. 

 

“I _SAID,”_ Jonathan yells, “IF YOU WANT TO WIN, COME FIGHT ME YOURSELF, _COWARD._ “

 

All he gets from the speaker is a resentful muttering sound: the car stays in the air. Just as Jonathan’s about to give up and go to plan B (climb up onto the car and hope for the best) a grinding sound comes from the ship. The car starts to descend.

 

As Jonathan looks into the windows- the car is still fairly high up, but he wants to make sure that Ozzie is in there and still OK- he hears a cackle from behind him. 

 

“You think you're so smart, don’t you, with your little human friends,” Jeff says, advancing slowly. Jonathan’s surprised the guy doesn’t just jump on him instantly: he supposes the resentment is slowing Jeff down. “Well, they’re not going to save you now.”

 

“I’m capable of defending myself,” says Jonathan. He hefts the tire iron. “Now, why don’t we do a little exchange. I don’t tell the humans about the invasion, and you let my friends go.”

 

Jeff laughs, although his eyes don’t actually reflect any joy. “Haven’t you heard? The invasion is coming, _Jonathan_. It’s close enough now that I can do what I want.” He smiles, showing all his teeth. “You and Gina have to die, Jonathan. But I think I’ll kill Ozzie first, just to let you feel what I went through.” 

 

Then, quick as a whip, Jeff lunges for Jonathan, using his smaller body size to his advantage. As Jonathan works to keep up, Jeff kicks his legs out from under him, pinning him to the ground with knuckles dug into his trachea. Jonathan wheezes, trying ineffectively to get the hand off his throat: with every passing second his attempts get weaker.

 

Just as his vision is starting to spot, the weight lets up and Jonathan scrambles back, gasping for breath and watching as Jeff turns back to attack Jonathan’s savior. 

 

Ozzie looks exhausted, as always, and has taken the tire iron into his own hands. While obviously very motivated, Jonathan can tell that Ozzie isn’t actually very good in a fight: he’s used to observing, not being in the thick of things (occasional tasering not included). 

 

With this in mind, Jonathan stumbles to his feet, wincing as all the blood rushes to his head. As he trips forward, intending to get Jeff off of Ozzie, a hurtling mass comes from the car. Gina.

 

“STOP!” She shrieks, moving faster than a woman of her age has any right to. She’s holding a softball bat with both hands. “I WILL _NOT_ GIVE ANOTHER WARNING!”

 

Jeff ignores her. 

 

Gina hits him between the shoulders with a right swing that Jonathan would estimate at around 20 mph. A resounding crack follows the impact.

 

Before Jeff can even scream, Gina’s throwing him off Ozzie, who’s bleeding from one cheek and looks slightly concussed. Jonathan, still feeling bruised in the trachea, moves to take a step forward. His knees give out.

 

The last thing he sees before he passes out is Yvonne’s truck pulling up to the curb. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gina has a lot of pent-up rage and a softball bat, look out.

 

They end up parked outside of the burger place, because Gina’s place is mostly destroyed and Yvonne refuses to let another reptilian in her house. Still, Ozzie reflects, there are worse places. The people at the drive through didn’t even look through the windows; their secret, for now, is safe.

 

A groan comes from his left. Ozzie turns to watch as Jonathan pushes himself up, wincing and poking at his own face. 

 

“Ugh, Jeff really did a number on me. What an ass.” He says. Ozzie finds himself staring at a drop of green, acidic blood dripping down Jonathan’s upper lip. 

 

“I.. yeah.” He says, finding himself incapable of looking away. Gina swallows her bite of burger aggressively and turns around to face the back seat. 

 

“So, Jonathan,” She says, forcing a smile, “I hear you’re a reptilian.” Her smile widens, showing more teeth than Ozzie is comfortable with. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about that.” She folds her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes completely focused on Jonathan.

 

The reptilian swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing. “Not much to say, really. I was a reptilian, then I defected. The end.”

 

Gina sighs. “Surely you know more than that, Jonathan. You must have had some influence, working as the head of Glint enterprises.”

 

Jonathan shakes his head. “Look, I was really just the guy on the ground. I reported to an assessor, the assessor dealt with the home ship- I had no direct contact.” He shrugs. “Earlier in my career, of course, I occasionally dealt with human subject capture and release, but I stopped doing that over a decade ago.”

 

Gina sighs. “I was hoping you’d know a little more.” 

 

Yvonne turns around, too, frowning at Jonathan. “What _exactly_ did you report about? Cause I read an article about how reptilians are studying earth plants, and Richard thinks you all impersonate presidents.”

 

“Look, I just made sure that no one got exposed, all right? Nancy had a list of people who were with us, and I went in to handle it if anything got too close to the surface.”

 

Yvonne’s eyes widen. “Wait, was Ozzie right? God _damn.”_

 

Jonathan stares at her. “Right about what?” He shakes his head, saying, “Of course, he’s right about a lot, but in this case I don’t really-“

 

“About accidentally finding a whole reptilian network! Steve Jobs, a reptilian… and I thought he was just ugly.”

 

Jonathan blinks. “Uh, actually, Jobs wasn’t one of us. We just paid him.”

 

“Huh!”Yvonne nods thoughtfully, taking a sip of her drink

 

Before he can join the conversation- why was Steve Jobs paid by the reptilians?- Ozzie hears a banging coming from the back of the truck. He clears his throat. 

 

“Uh, Yvonne? I think the other alien is awake…”

 

Yvonne puts her drink back in the cupholder of the front seat, swinging herself out of the car. “If you want to interrogate the grey with me, you should come round to the back. I’m sure as hell not letting him out in the parking lot of a drive-through burger.”

 

Jonathan perks up at the mention of the grey, letting himself out of the back with a trembling hand. Ozzie barely manages to grab the back of the guy’s shirt before he topples out: Jonathan probably has a concussion.

 

After a few seconds of fumbling, Jonathan finally manages to get out of the truck, leaning on the side of the car and bleeding heavily. Ozzie wonders, for a second, if it’s all right for Jonathan to be out in plain sight- but it’s already happened, so there’s nothing much for it now.

 

Slipping out of the car himself, Ozzie slips an arm under one of Jonathan’s, supporting the taller man with a shoulder. Jonathan winces, but doesn’t pull away: Ozzie supposes that pride only goes so far. 

 

By the time they get to the back of the car (they’ve been moving at an agonizing pace), Yvonne has already opened the doors. Jeff is tied to one of the benches: he’s got chafing on his wrists that indicates an attempt at escape, but he’s motionless now. Both of his eyes are focused on Gina, who’s holding her softball bat again and is sitting opposite of him. 

“So,” Yvonne says, “Did you take Gerry?” Her arms are folded, and she’s glaring at the alien fiercely. 

 

A muffled set of swearwords reaches them. Yvonne winces. “Oh, sorry, I should probably take the duct tape off first.”

 

She reaches in and rips it off. 

 

“AGH! GOD, YOU IDIOT HUMAN! YOU CAN’T JUST-“

 

Gina leans forward. The alien stops talking. 

 

“So,” Gina says, “This is how it’s going to go. You’re going to tell us all about yourself, your job, the aliens, and our friend, Gerry,” here she gives a reassuring glance to Yvonne, “and then, if you cooperate, we won’t tell Richard about you.”

 

“ _What,”_ hisses the alien, “is a Richard?”

 

Gina gives him a smile, lips closed. No warmth reaches her eyes. “Richard,” she says, “means a human that is going to be very eager to talk about every single aspect of the reptilian takeover. With diagrams.”

 

“Eugh.”

 

Yvonne clears her throat. “So, Alien. Our friend Gerry. Did you take him?” 

 

“First of all,” says the grey, “My name is Jeff. As for your friend… I don’t bother learning the names of the subjects. You’ll have to give me more information.”

 

Yvonne presses her lips together. “He’s white, has a beard, bout this tall?” She indicates a spot in the air. “Kinda chubby, but cute, y’know?”

 

Jeff narrows his eyes at her. “I think we picked up a human of that description, yes. I wouldn’t bother trying to get him back, though. My coworkers have probably already dissected him.”

 

Gina takes a deep breath- the kind that you might take before jumping out of a plane, or attacking an alien with a softball bat. “And what if we _did_ want to get him back?” Her hands tightened on the handle.

 

Jeff hesitates, but when Gina starts to lift the bat he breaks. 

 

“I have a responder! They’ll come pick me up if I activate the beacon on it.” At another meaningful look from Gina, he whimpers, “It’s in my back pocket!”

 

It only takes them a couple of seconds to grab it after that. After some quick discussion, they decide to duct tape Jeff’s mouth again and leave him in the back of the truck while they deal with things: Jonathan is quick to assure them that Officer Glimmer won’t spill, and any regular person who happens upon Jeff can be dealt with later. 

 

-

 

Once they’re out of earshot of Jeff, Gina takes charge of the conversation. “Right. Well, obviously I’m going. Ozzie, you’re injured, stay back here with Jonathan and make sure everyone else in group is all right. Yvonne, will you be all right staying?”

 

Yvonne snorts. “Oh, hell no. I’m not leaving Gerry in your hands alone- no offense.”

 

Gina sniffs. “Yes, well, none taken.” 

 

Yvonne digs in her pocket, finally tossing a set of keys at Ozzie. “Take the truck back to your motel. Gina and I will meet you there.”

 

Ozzie nods. “So, uh, we’ll be… off.” He makes a vague gesture towards the truck. Jonathan yelps, making Ozzie incredibly guilty: he had forgotten his elbow was in a prime place to poke into Jonathan’s back. 

 

They walk to the truck: Ozzie manages to help Jonathan into the passenger seat. It’s a five minute drive to the hotel.

 

Once they’re up to Ozzie’s room, Jonathan tips onto the bed, wiping his nose with the back of a hand. Ozzie clears his throat.

 

“Okay, so, we both know the whole ‘agreeing to not investigate’ thing was bullshit. So I’m just going to leave. There’s aspirin in the cabinet, I think?” He turns on his heel, but at the doorway he pauses. There’s a certain taste in the back of his throat: he thinks it might be guilt (there's a hint of longing, too, but he steadfastly ignores it).

 

“Sorry I can’t stay, Jonathan. Don’t fall asleep, I think you have a concussion.” He closes the door firmly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter= actual romance??? I'm sorry but Ozzie is just too much of a journalist to let this lie and have a cozy evening with Jonathan, RIP :')


	7. Chapter 7

 

All his life, Jonathan has looked out for one person: himself. He’s an independent sort. It fits his species, honestly: the only reason they work together at all is because they’d die, otherwise. 

 

Which is why his current situation is so confusing.

 

He doesn’t quite understand why he pushes himself up off the bed as soon as Ozzie closes the door, doesn’t realize why he’s moving even as he steals an umbrella to use as a cane and stuffs toilet paper up his nose to stop the bleeding. He doesn’t know why he stumbles down to the truck.

 

It’s only as he opens the back doors of the truck and kicks Jeff out onto the parking lot, then swings into the drivers seat and begins backing out onto the road that he realizes. Over the years he’s always felt responsible for Ozzie, but this is something different.

 

If Ozzie goes and attacks the home ship, he’ll die. And Jonathan is still selfish. He wants the chance of a future with Ozzie, even if it’s one where they’re awkwardly across from each other at work and Ozzie doesn’t trust him.

 

He keeps an image of a future where Ozzie stays alive in the forefront of his mind as he hits the gas pedal, zooming towards the field in Beacon where this all started. 

 

His preoccupation, while motivating, is also distracting- which is why he doesn’t notice that as he accelerates out of the parking lot, Jeff is pulling off his restraints.

 

-

There is a certain type of anger that sits at the back of your throat, pulsing and throbbing with every breath. Jeff is so full of his need for vengeance that he barely notices the throbbing in his back as he’s thrown out of the truck; he barely even registers the squealing of tires as Jonathan tears out of the motel parking lot.

 

As he sits up, yanking his arms out of the rope and pulling the duct tape off his mouth, he reviews the last hour or so of his life with humiliation and shame. Jeff had let himself be distracted by that idiot reptilian, and in doing so had opened himself to attack. 

 

Still, Jeff has always been good at learning from his mistakes. He’s been planning this ever since Gina took him captive. 

 

_Did she really think that was a pickup beacon?_ he wonders, shaking off the last of the ropes and standing up, legs shaking. He grins in anticipation. 

  
See, there are lots of different ways to ask for a return to the home ship. None of them include a button. 

 

Jeff gave Gina the signal to start the invasion.

 

He can feel a maniacal laugh bubbling up, but he stifles it as he walks towards the nearest road. He’ll need to be composed if he wants to be able to witness Empathy’s death. He deserves to watch, at least, if he can’t kill her.

 

Yes, Jeff is going to enjoy the sight of her terrified eyes as she dies: the only question is whether or not she deserves to know why he’s having her killed. 

 

Mulling it over, he walks onto the road, holding up both arms. It’s a long straightaway: any driver will see him before they mow him over.

 

With a screech of tires, an old lady peers out the window. “Young man, you-“ Her eyebrows go up as Jeff walks up to the window, yanking her head down to face him. “Why, you’re a grey! You know, Ennis mentions your sort all the time, but I _never_ thought that you’d be-“

 

Jeff sighs. “Listen, _human._ ” He recognizes her, vaguely, but can’t quite bring her name to mind. “Either you take me where I want to go, or I kill you.” He points his dagger at her. “Well?”

 

The lady sniffs. “You know, in my day, we didn’t need to threaten people to get a ride. We just hitchiked.”

 

Still, there’s a click: the backseat doors just opened. Jeff gets in, about to tell her where to go- but the doors click again. He’s locked in.

 

The car roars. The woman just did something to the engine. 

 

The rage is back, and Jeff leans forward, pulling out his knife to press it against the woman’s- no, Margaret’s- neck. “ _What_ are you trying to do, human?”

 

He feels the knife move forward slightly as Margaret sighs. “Well, I certainly don’t give in to violent demands.” 

 

She moves too fast for Jeff to retaliate: before he knows it, his dagger has been pulled out of his hands. He feels his lips pulling into a snarl. 

 

“Well?” the woman says, turning back around to face him. “I suppose now is the time when you ought to-“

 

Jeff points his blaster directly at her nose. “You forgot my gun, _human._ Drive me to the field outside beacon.”

 

-

Jonathan realizes the mistake they all made as soon as he sees the field. The ship has landed: the doors are open. The field is covered with reptilians, greys, and whites. 

 

Jeff lied to them, and now they might all pay the final price. 

 

Swallowing back blood and fear, Jonathan gets out of the truck, legs shaking. With a hand, he pulls off his human mask for what could be the final time. His best chance is to pretend he’s with the invaders.

 

He takes a deep breath: he throws the umbrella to the side. 

 

Then he wades into the fray. 

 

“Hey, move aside!” He shouts, pushing apart a couple of whites, then ducking under a dagger thrown by another reptilian. “I’ve got orders from the commander, he wants me to see the prisoners.”

 

Another reptilian moves forward. Jonathan recognizes him vaguely: his name is possibly Craig. 

 

“I thought you defected.” Yep, definitely Craig. Jonathan gives him a watery smile. 

 

“Not at all! I’ve just been under deep cover. Still, with the invasion as close as it is, I was told to come out into civilization again. Great to see you, Craig!”

 

After being subjected to a long, suspicious stare, the other reptilian finally sighs and points to the ship. “They’re on level two, in the holding cells. Be careful, they’re dangerous. The females took out six of our upper level fighters.” 

 

Jonathan nods, then starts to walk slowly towards the ship. As soon as Craig’s eyes leave his back, he breaks into a sprint.

 

Thankfully, no one seems to be in the ship: he heads up to the second level as fast as he can. It’s only once he gets up to the second level that he sees a problem: he still doesn’t have security clearance. 

 

There are two separate cells: Ozzie’s passed out in the back of one, with Gerry at the front holding onto the bars: Yvonne and Gina are in the other, looking mad as hornets. Before Jonathan can identify himself, Yvonne launches herself towards him.

 

“We’re not talking!” She shouts, shaking a fist at him. “I ain’t stupid enough to give you any information.” 

 

Jonathan sighs. “I’m here to rescue you.”  


“Yeah, right. That’s what the bad guys always say in horror movies. Well, guess what, I’m not some stupid-ass white lady. No one’s gonna come rescue us lookin like that.”

 

“I’m- I’m Jonathan, Ozzie’s old boss.” He smiles at her, stretching his arms out. “Recognize me?”

 

“Hell no!” 

 

As Yvonne glares at Jonathan, Gina steps forward. “You know, I think it might actually be him,” She says, eyes trained on Jonathan. “He’s got similar facial features once you look past the scales.”  


They share a look, then go to the back of the cell to discuss something. Jonathan sighs, then looks around for anything he could use to release the prisoners. 

 

Much to his surprise, he finds a keypad at the end of the hall- even more to his surprise, when he types in his username, it doesn't cut him off.

 

That’s when he realizes- Jeff hasn’t been syncing his tech to the cloud. Frowning, he finishes logging in, hoping that his gut isn’t wrong.

 

It works! Holding his breath, Jonathan cues the cells to unlock. He hears a click behind him.

 

Grinning in triumph, he goes to log off- and notices a little notification in the corner of the screen. 

 

_Alert to all users: the system is currently downloading information from the cloud. Estimated finishing time: five minutes._

 

“Shit!”

 

Jonathan’s heart rate speeds. His login history has already been added to the database. Swearing under his breath some more, he moves as quickly as he can to wipe the history- only to get an error message.

 

_Due to activity on the server, your information will be deleted in: six minutes._

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Jonathan takes a deep breath. If the cloud updates before his login information is erased, the alarm will go up and they’ll all be killed. If they manage to escape together, the other aliens will find him and kill him, probably along with everyone from starcrossed. If the others escape and he stays behind…

 

He checks the time left for the cloud download. It’s still at five minutes. 

 

Jonathan takes a deep breath, then sprints towards the cells. Swinging open Gina and Yvonne’s cell first, he says, “Run. They’re going to find out I let you loose.”

 

“You released us?” Gina stares at him thoughtfully. “So how does that-“

 

“What part of running didn’t you hear?” Says Yvonne, tugging on her arm. “Let’s get the boys and _go!”_

 

There’s a scuffing of the floor behind Jonathan. He turns around: Gerry is holding Ozzie, who’s still unconscious, up with his shoulder. “I got free, guys!” 

 

“Let’s go!” Yvonne grabs Ozzie’s other arm, then turns around to leave, but before they can head out Jonathan reaches out to grab Gerry’s shoulder.

 

“Not you.”

 

“What?” Gerry frowns at Jonathan. “Uh, have we met before?”

 

“I’m Ozzie’s old boss,” Jonathan says, speaking as quickly as he dares. “Listen, I need someone to go and change things in the engine room so that the invasion of earth doesn’t happen while I distract the troops here. You’re smart, you can do this. You’ve been studying alien tech for ages, right?”

 

Gerry drops Ozzie’s arm- Gina swoops in to catch Ozzie before both Ozzie and Yvonne tip over. “Yes, of course! I’ve been training for this my whole life!”

 

“Great. Gina, Yvonne, take Ozzie and go, okay?” 

 

Gina nods: Yvonne frowns. “Wait, are we supposed to just-“ 

 

“If this all works as planned, Gerry will be just fine, but just in case I need you guys to leave, okay?” Jonathan tries not to convey how panicked he is through his tone of voice: he’s not sure he’s successful.

 

Gerry nods from beside him. “I don’t want to put you guys in danger! Please, go.”  


Yvonne stares at Jonathan for a second, then turns to Gerry. Then she tugs Gerry forward by his collar and kisses him. “Don’t you dare die, Gerry, you hear me?”

 

With a click of her heels, she turns around, dragging Ozzie down the hall. Gina keeps pace with her, and within seconds they’re out of sight.

 

“Right,” says Jonathan, turning focus back to Gerry. Gerry starts, like he’s just been woken from a dream. “I need you to go to the engine room. That’s a floor below us. There are a bunch of buttons there. You need to press six of them. First, press-“

 

Gerry holds up a finger to stop Jonathan, then pulls out a piece of paper and a pen. “Right, I’m ready.” 

 

“Okay. First, press the big red button on the wall. That’ll open up the communications feed. Then, press the green and then the orange button- that’ll mean that everything is fine and that they need to stop the invasion.”

 

Gerry nods. 

 

“Okay, and then you’ll need to go to the all-silver panel that’s marked “research”.” Jonathan pauses, realizing Gerry can’t read reptilian. “Well, uh, it’s got a bunch of different letters over it. Just go to the one with the long word above it, okay? And press the enter button on the keyboard. Search the records for Ozzie Graham, then delete his file using the backspace button.” 

 

Gerry opens his mouth as if he’s about to ask another question, but Jonathan hears footsteps coming up the corridor. There’s a beep from the control panel. It’s been six minutes. 

 

“Shit! Okay, go- now! They’re coming!” 

 

Gerry takes off. 

 

Then, heart racing, Jonathan sidles into one of the shelves and leans against the wall, folding his arms casually. He has to distract the security team for at least fifteen minutes.

 

-

Ozzie comes slowly to conciousness, head bobbing as they run down the hall. He only fully opens his eyes when they’re out in the sun, though, blinking and groaning as he wakens. 

 

“I- what happened?”

 

“They sprayed you with something,” Gina says, kicking a grey in the gut. “You were out for at least half an hour.”

 

“Huh.” Says Ozzie. “Wait, why’re we out here? Thought we were going into the ship, not out of it.”

 

“We got captured,” says Yvonne, letting go of Ozzie to grab a reptilian’s blaster. “Your weird ex-boss let us out.”

 

“ _What?_ “ Ozzie frowns. “I left him back in my motel room!”

 

“Well, he got out.” Gina frowns. “Where are you going?”

 

“I have to find him,” says Ozzie, “ask him how he got here… did he take a car? Stealing doesn’t sound like him.”

 

“He’s still inside, Ozzie. Come on, we need to get out of here, he sounded like he expected us to die.”

 

“Die?” Ozzie frowns even more severely, then wrenches himself out of Gina’s grip. “I’ve gotta find him.. get him out of trouble.”

 

“Oh, come on. follow us.” Gina grabs his arm again, then starts pulling him towards the road again. The aliens have stopped paying them much attention, preoccupied by the alarm going off at the ship. The constant shrieking is making Ozzie even more worried.

 

As they get close to the road, a car pulls up- Margaret’s car. Ozzie can see the woman in the front seat- with Jeff in the back.

 

Jeff isn’t tied up anymore- instead, he’s holding a blaster. And it’s pointed directly at Margaret’s head. 

 

Gina shrieks in fury, launching forward and letting go of Ozzie’s arm in the process.

 

Ozzie takes advantage of her distraction and makes a break for the ship. Letting himself be pushed forward with the mob, Ozzie tries to stay undetected as he moves through the first floor of the ship and up the stairs. Before he gets into the prison complex again, though, he tucks himself into a small nook. Through a crack in the wall, he can see the scene in front of him- Jonathan, surrounded by at least twenty other aliens. 

 

With a click, the siren turns off. 

 

In the sudden quiet, Ozzie can make out what Jonathan’s saying.

 

“As I’ve told you several times before, I went rogue because I couldn’t stand looking at my supervisor’s nose anymore. I mean, he didn’t even clip his nose hairs. We’re reptilians! We’re not supposed to even have nose hair!”

 

“Please.” The other reptilian shoves Jonathan into a wall, poking a dagger into his throat. “Like anyone is stupid enough to believe that. You saved the human’s life. Why?”

 

“He makes good coffee, and he wouldn’t eat bruschetta with me otherwise,” says Jonathan, shrinking away from the knife. 

 

Ozzie watches, wide-eyed, as the knife begins to press slowly into Jonathan’s throat. A bead of green blood begins to well up. As the knife goes deeper, Jonathan yelps.

 

“Fine! I’ll tell you, but you won’t believe me.”

 

“Try us.” The atmosphere in the room is stifling and cold.

 

Jonathan licks his lips, a green tongue darting out quickly, before taking a deep breath. Eyes on the ceiling, he blurts, “I’m in love with him, all right?”

 

There’s a pause.

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in.”

 

“You sacrificed your career and life because you were sleeping with some human?”

 

Jonathan snorts. “Hey, no, I was not sleeping with Ozzie. We are strictly platonic, thanks.”

 

“What, so you sacrificed everything you’ve ever worked for- everything _we’ve_ ever worked for- because you were _pining?”_ The knife drops to the floor. “You truly are a pathetic example of the reptilian race.”

 

The reptilian turns away, facing Ozzie for the first time: Ozzie spots several medals hanging on the alien’s chest. He must be a commander.

 

“Kill him.” The words are somehow unexpected, even as Ozzie’s just processed what the entire exchange was about between Jonathan and the other reptilian.

 

Still, Ozzie has never been one to sit back when he could do the right thing. 

 

And so, just as the Alien is lifting the rifle, Ozzie launches himself at the white. 

 

All hell breaks loose. 

 

-

Richard has been preparing for the reptilian invasion ever since he was abducted. Tear gas, grenades, rifles, you name it- he’s got it. Some have called him crazy: some have accused him of delusion: some have pretended to be his wife in order to stop him from saving the human race and then divorced him.

 

Still, it’s all worth it when he pulls up to the field where Gina and Yvonne are fighting for their lives. It takes only a few cans of pepper spray before the grey is fully subdued, and Gina looks positively besotted as Richard hands her a bat.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“I’m just here to save you from the reptilians, Gina, no need to thank me.”

 

“How did you even find us?” 

 

“I called him,” says Margaret, leaning against the car. “You know, in my free-riding gypsy days, I would have taken care of this in a jiffy, but old age has it’s drawbacks.” 

 

Gina sighs, pressing down on the bridge of her nose with a couple of fingers. “Right. Do you have enough weapons to take down a ship of reptilians, Richard, or did you just come with pepper spray?”

 

Richard makes a mental note to tell her later that while her love is appreciated, he still holds a torch for Nancy. “Of course I have enough weaponry! I’ve been preparing this for years.”

 

A truck pulls up.

  
“I also called Ennis,” he says, smiling. “Should we head inside the ship?”

 

-

 

When they finally make it out of the ship and onto safe ground, no one is completely unharmed. Jonathan has the worst of it, with bruises forming from his earlier altercation with Jeff and a cut directly across his throat, not to mention a wound from a blaster attack: still, everyone is still standing, which is amazing.

 

Standing on the road as the sun begins to set, Ozzie only realizes the others have been talking when they shout his name. He comes back from his thoughts with a start. “Uh, what?”

 

“We were saying,” says Gina, “That Jonathan should stay with you. He still doesn’t have a home of his own.”

 

Ozzie swallows. The coward in him says to reject the request- but before he can think about it, he’s already speaking. “Yeah, sure. He can come back to my place.” 

 

He avoids eye contact with Jonathan, but he can feel the weight of one of Walsh’s grins on him. 

 

“Right!” says Gina. “Well, now that that’s all settled, we should all go back to our respective homes. Remember, we meet at ten in Ennis’s barn to discuss our feelings about all of this.” 

 

Ozzie takes a deep breath. “Great! I’ll see you then.” He grabs his keys, then heads to his car. He studiously avoids eye contact with Jonathan.

 

The fifteen minute drive back to his motel is excruciatingly awkward, but Ozzie makes it a rule not to have any important conversations when he’s driving: even if running into a deer that one time was just a planted memory, it’s best to stay safe.

 

Still, by the time they’re back in the motel he feels as if he’s a fingernail’s breadth away from exploding. The instant the door closes, he can’t help himself- he blurts out, “Are you in love with me?”

 

Jonathan opens his mouth to answer, backing towards the bed. Ozzie cuts him off.

 

“I heard you talking to the commander, or whoever that was. Could you- please, just tell me the truth. Are you in love with me?”

 

Jonathan sits down on Ozzie’s bed. Ozzie watches his adam’s apple bob: then, with a twitch of his head, Jonathan says, “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

 

It takes a second to process. Ozzie hadn’t actually expected Jonathan to respond. It takes even longer for him to process what he’s feeling.

 

With a cough, Jonathan stands up before Ozzie has a chance to respond. “Hey. Don't get weird. It’s not like anything has to change.”

 

He starts towards the door. “I’ll stay in the back of the police station, you don’t have to-“

 

Ozzie grabs his wrist, pulling Jonathan around to face him. “What if I want it?”

 

“What?”

 

“What if I want something to change?” Ozzie looks into Jonathan’s eyes this time, tracing the slits Walsh has for pupils mentally. There’s something strangely attractive about it. 

 

Jonathan sighs, shoulders tilting downwards. “Look, you’re confused and disoriented, okay?” He pulls Ozzie’s hand off of his wrist. “So I’m going to leave for tonight, and you’re going to talk to me tomorrow if you really want to-“

 

Ozzie leans forward and kisses him. It only takes a second for Jonathan to respond, kissing back with surprising fervor: his lips are warmer than Ozzie would have expected. Jonathan’s hands wrap around his waist. 

 

Holding back a smile, Ozzie pulls back. “I’m an adult, Jonathan. I’m perfectly capable of making decisions.” He raises an eyebrow. “Right now, I choose you.”

 

“So… I don’t need to leave?” Jonathan grins at Ozzie, smile a bit too wide as always- this time, though, he actually seems comfortable.

 

“No, Jonathan, you don’t need to leave.” Ozzie raises both eyebrows this time. “But if you can’t keep to your side of the bed, I reserve the right to make you sleep on the doorstep.”

 

“Hey! I’m coldblooded!”

 

“I’m sure you’ll manage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK IF THIS IS GOOD BUT IT HAPPENED, SO. I started out thinking this would be 1000 words. rip
> 
> I'm not sure if I should add an epilogue. Let me know what you think! It would probably be a little episode of kelly texting ozzie or something, haha. im sure she's bummed to have missed out on all the gossip. it would also tie up a few plot threads.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic!
> 
> -Am


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little epilogue, because... yeah idk why I did this really. There you go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italics is kelly, bold is Ozzie.

_Hey._

_Ozzie._

_Hey_

_Hey_

_Hey_

_Hey_

_Hey_

_…._

_I know you’re awake, dude,_

_You have your read receipts on._

**……..I WAS trying to sleep, you know.**

_Pfft._

_you can sleep when you’re dead._

**So, what’s the big deal?**

_Margaret told me you’re sleeping with a certain someone ;)_

**I-**

**Really?**

**This is what you’re texting me about at four in the morning?**

_Okay, for one, it’s nine for me._

_Second, I just want to make sure you’re okay._

_That’s my job as your sponsor, right?_

_Checkin on you or whatever?_

**Yeah, well, I’m fine.**

**Please let me go to sleep.**

_This is for your own good, suck it up._

_Anyway, Gina said that she was a little concerned about you._

_Something about a kidnapping?_

**Ugh.**

**Yeah, Jonathan captured me when I was a kid,**

**No, it’s not a problem,**

**The end.**

**Satisfied?**

_Eh, kinda, although I could use some more detail._

**You’re not getting any more info. Some things are meant to be private.**

**And tell Gina to stop asking me about it in group.**

**Can I go back to sleep now?**

_You’re on your own, buddy._

_…also, if you want to go to sleep, then just put your phone on silent, duh._

**I can’t put my phone on silent because I need my alarm in the morning.**

**Unlike SOME people, I’m still employed.**

_Yeah, yeah, have fun with your rat race._

_Iceland is 1000% cooler, jsyk_

**Yeah, go ahead and rub it in.**

_Aren’t you going to ask me?_

**Ask you what?**

_How it is in Iceland? How Don’s mom is?_

**….How are you doing, Kelly?**

**Feel free to respond in eight hours, when I’m sure to be awake.**

_Why, thank you for asking, such a polite young man._

_Stuff’s complicated over here actually, I’m gonna hold off on details until it’s all sorted out._

**…**

**…**

**You know what, I’m just going to go to bed.**

**Please don’t text me until tomorrow morning.**

_Yeah, okay._

_I hope Jonathan works well as a pillow ;) ;) ;)_

**GOODNIGHT.**


End file.
